


Puzzle 3301|Chapter 4

by KaileyFox



Series: Puzzle 3301 [5]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 16:44:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11673099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaileyFox/pseuds/KaileyFox





	Puzzle 3301|Chapter 4

Only half an hour had elapsed since I’d returned home from work but already I was leaving again. After slipping on my Oxfords I took the three stone steps out my door in twos and clacked down the pavement, determined to arrive at the Tysan’s as soon as possible. A cool spring breeze swept through my hair in my haste, bringing with it the occasional scent of budding flora or blossoming sapling within the heavy, ever-present mixture of grilled foods, vehicle exhaust, petrol and an abundance of other city odours. I looked to the sky. Twilight was settling as the dying sun hung on the horizon, dousing the clouds crimson-violet as they embraced a hazy moon reviving behind a curtain of London fog.

           Though it was growing darker as I strode along, the streets stayed brilliantly lit with countless lights I couldn’t help but be mesmerised by on the rare occasion I travelled at night (or, when Mary rang, very early in the morning). It wasn’t so much the streetlamps I was engrossed with but more the variety of signs and outdoor telly screens. Everywhere I looked some piece of technology attempted to draw my attention to one thing or another. Pubs featuring one-of-a-kind brews, restaurants proclaiming rave reviews, supermarkets with supposedly the lowest prices, meals as the special for today, clothes for sale, merchandise one apparently couldn’t hope to find anywhere else. Certainly a sight during the day, but in the later hours each and every sign or screen was too dazzlingly bright to not catch my eye, whether I’d be buying or not. Such a futuristic version of London… I could have never dreamt it, never even planned its creation myself. And it had passed right by me after all these years…

           I looked away, forcing back the thoughts of my past that had begun to rise from the darker corners of my mind. Enough on that. I wasn’t a tourist, I needn’t be this distracted by a city I’d lived in all my life. Especially not when I had two important missions on my mind. My fingers inadvertently clutched the dossier in my right hand. Within it had once been stacks upon stacks of papers, so much so the binding of the thing was warped beyond repair. Now only one page out of the thousands remained: a document on the Scroll of the Guardians.

           This single document was the only one useful to me but my lengthy search had not been in vain. I’d found Mr Tysan’s journal on his archaeological adventures at the very bottom of the stacks. After tearing my attention from the leather-bound book, I’d returned it to the folder alongside two insect puzzles—one from my home computer, the other from work—for safekeeping during the travel. The puzzles were more for personal enjoyment, but the journal and the document on the Scroll related to the murder case I’d been investigating lately. I was sure nothing to do with the murders would happen at the Tysan house tonight as, again, I’d not placed much weight on the idea the Tysan’s were involved. But the possibility was there and I was far too knowledgeable on the subjects of death and deception to dismiss it. Not until I had clear, conclusive evidence to prove otherwise. This would be one of my tasks when I arrived at the house. To uncover additional information about these various mysteries.

           My second task, though, was what had brought me out on this journey in the first place. Spying… If what Justine had told me over the phone was true, Fayne’s mother and father would not be home. Therefore, she was currently at their house… _alone_ _with Fayne_. A worried groan seeped from between my clenched teeth. I may be much older now, but I knew how dangerous teenagers could be when left to their own devices! Back in secondary school I’d observed rather than engaged in the activities my peers did. I finished my homework on time while they frequented pubs with mates and drank all night. I attended class while they snuck off to snog one another. I took notes while they went out for a smoke…amongst many other adolescent mischiefs that could hardly be considered (and sometimes weren’t) legal. All these things and more Justine and Fayne could get into if I wasn’t there to stop them!

           I approached the Tysan’s as my thoughts began to reel.

           What if Fayne offered cigarettes to Justine? I thought I’d caught a whiff of smoke off him yesterday…

           I snuck up the driveway.

           Even worse, what if he tricked Justine into sampling drugs…? Got her addicted? Made her unaware of her own actions?

           I flattened my back against the wall of the house, noticing a thudding coming from within. My heart began to drum along with it.

           What if he bought alcohol? They were the legal age to drink but Justine hadn’t started and Fayne’s only intentions in offering would be to make her even less aware of her actions…

           I slunk up to the window, the noises growing louder, my heart hammering faster.

           And what if all this led up to him coaxing her into his bedroom…so he could…

           My eyes wide with terror, I slowly peeked in…

           So he could…!

           And what I saw before me were Justine and Fayne… I blinked rapidly in surprise. They were sitting on couches…opposite one another…playing a rather colourful (and loud) video game of sorts…

           I ducked down under the window, breathing a sigh of relief while wiping the sweat from my forehead. Thank goodness they weren’t doing much of anything at all! But… My brow furrowed, my fear renewed. That certainly didn’t mean they couldn’t start… If I was to get anything done tonight while also keeping my daughter safe, I’d have to split my concentration between her and these mysteries.

           With this promise in mind, I focused all my attention one last time on the muffled, thrumming beat of video game music and the occasional talking and laughter inside, being sure I hadn’t missed any warning signs already, before I set to work.

           I retrieved Mr Tysan’s journal from the folder I had set down at my side. Opening the cover, its binding snapped and groaned as if it wished to keep its secrets hidden. This only whet my persistence to uncover the answers I sought. I had already read the first page at work, but I was helplessly drawn to it again, like a good book I had decided to reread.

 

_14 Dec 1967_

 

_‘This is my first real adventure as an archaeologist. I still have quite a lot of progress to make before I can research the very theories that led me to pursue this career, but I have a very strong sense I will discover more along the way. That being, angel, whatever it was, I hadn’t imagined it. Surely the Scroll it left behind was meant to be discovered and researched. Whether it was meant for me personally, I'm still unsure, but even so, I will do my best to educate myself on what I’d seen and learn what it was escaping from.’_

           Though it had only been a few hours since I’d even discovered the existence of this journal, reading those words through again felt like revisiting an old friend. They were familiar to me, but what sorts of adventures they’d been on, what they had in store to tell me, that’s what truly gripped my attention.

_WUMP!_

           I started upon hearing the sudden racket from within the house and before I knew my legs were moving I was sat up on my knees peering inside the window with a scowl of angry concern. What was Fayne doing to my daughter?! If I saw _anything_ strange—

           But what met my eyes was Justine sniggering while sat awkwardly on the floor. I blinked. Must have slipped or something. She wasn’t exactly the most graceful human on earth… I was relieved knowing at least this had nothing to do with Fayne, but just as the sensation surfaced I noticed him standing off to the side, doubled-up in mirth. I gripped the wooden windowsill tight. How uncouth he was to laugh at a lady when she had fallen down! I about ran in just then to teach the lad a lesson, but there seemed to be no point as Justine was already getting to her feet and the two were soon playing video games once more.

           Defeated, I huddled back under the window, sulking. I guess I couldn’t be too upset. Even if he had offered her a hand, it probably would have been a ruse. I knew how it looked, pretending to be a gentleman to fulfil a goal…and I sensed Fayne knew this as well. Before dismissing the situation I cast one final glare at the bricks behind me, knowing Fayne was just on the other side, then with a disdainful sniff I turned back to the journal.

 

_15 Dec 1967_

_‘I can’t take it. My thoughts are anywhere but where they need to be. I am currently standing in the lab, examining a piece of artefact I found on today’s excavation, or at least trying… Though this was my first dig I can’t seem to pay attention to the mysterious object before me as I’m too engrossed in another mysterious item, one from my childhood: that Scroll. But I suppose it was because this was my first dig my mind is filled with memories of that time. This is my reason for taking up the pen. Perhaps if I write out these memories, organise them, I’ll be released from their hold. Many of them were of when I’d seen that being, the Scroll it had left behind, the many theories I had spent much of my adolescence scrawling out on—’_

_THUD!_

           Again my legs moved faster than my brain and I was peering into the window before I’d even registered the noise. I expected to see Fayne pinning Justine to the floor but instead he was seated on the couch a good distance away while Justine was clenching a fist on the floor, staring up at the telly plastered with a large ‘Game Over’. It was alright, I assured myself. It was only Justine… The adrenaline rushing through my veins made it difficult to calmly seat myself once more but when I finally managed a comfortable cross-legged position, I was quickly back to reading.

 

_‘Many of them were of when I’d seen that being, the Scroll it had left behind, the many theories I had spent much of my adolescence scrawling out on paper after paper. Back then, I’d been just a lad, wondering what I’d be when I was older. Every adult had asked me and I’d never had an answer. I thought maybe this was a stage everyone went through, a phase that would come to pass and soon I could proudly declare the career I would pursue as an adult. But come secondary school I still didn’t know…until I found the Scroll the being had left behind._

_‘Though I had seen only a tiny flash of this being flying away, it was magnificent, like spotting a shooting star amongst all the lights of London. I had been playing outside in the evening and knew Mother would call me in for tea soon, but I couldn’t help myself. I intended to follow after what I’d seen to be sure it was real. I set off in the direction the being had flown, trekking for upwards of thirty minutes across London’s darkening streets. I remember experiencing a strange pulsing in my chest, a feeling of anxiety, but also excitement that I was drawing closer to a destination I had never been to. I carried onward, the feeling growing stronger until I felt dizzy with it. Dizzy enough to stop a moment in order to catch my breath._

_‘The moment I straightened, however, I saw the landscape around me had changed. Completely. No more city lights. No more buildings. Just flat, sandy terrain as far as I could see. I would have panicked, but the moment I felt the tears spring to my eyes, I spotted the Scroll only metres away, lying there on the ground, waiting for me to draw near. My fear was instantly replaced with wonderment._

_‘I remember approaching slowly as if sneaking up on an alerted deer, afraid it might disappear if I moved too quickly. Once I made my way over I stooped down to the Scroll and took it gently in my hands. I didn’t open it right away as all I could do was stare at its furled state, wondering what I had stumbled upon, whether just touching it would take me on an adventure to some faraway land like I’d seen in films. Then I remembered, I was already in some faraway land. If just finding the Scroll led me here, what would opening it do? I finally took the ancient end of the parchment between quivering fingers and pulled. And what I saw before me were—’_

_“GRAAAA!!”_

           I nearly jumped out of my skin, dropping the journal in the process. I had expected to see Justine writhing in pain as I shot up and stared wide-eyed through the window. But again I found I was wrong. The shrieking had come from a large dragon-like monster flailing about on the telly screen. She was fighting a boss, her fingers dancing so rapidly on the controller I was afraid the thing might burst into flames. Fayne was standing at her side, cheering her on by pumping his fists. At least his hands weren’t anywhere they shouldn’t be… A withering look crept onto my features. For once…

           I sighed as I nestled under the window once more, retrieving the journal from where it had landed on the ground. Perhaps since Fayne seemed to be behaving himself I’d focus more on my investigation than what he could be doing to my daughter. Of course my fatherly instincts didn’t like this idea much at all, but I promised I wouldn’t turn my full attention on the journal. Only enough to stop jumping at every noise I heard…

           With this in mind, I opened the leather-bound book and continued where I’d left off.

 

‘ _I finally took the ancient end of the parchment between quivering fingers and pulled. And what I saw before me were both numbers and letters arranged as though they were forming words and sentences. Like a language. One I’d never seen before. Needless to say, I could make neither head nor tail of it, but this unknown was certainly not unexpected nor was it bad. In fact, I felt giddy with excitement. I remember running inside, dashing up to my bedroom and locking my door tight before realising I’d been somewhere completely different. I checked out the window to see I really was back home, in London with all the traffic, buildings and lights. How? I wondered. Had it all been a dream? I turned back to the Scroll. It couldn’t have been. The Scroll was here with me. Truly, what had I stumbled upon?_

_‘Unfurling the Scroll once more, my eyes flit over every number, every letter to theorise what it could possibly mean. I hadn’t noticed until this moment that within the mixture were seven insignias, each with their own symbol and colour. Blood, an hourglass, a book, a set of scales… Were these some sort of powers this being had, I wondered at the time. Maybe I could search out these symbols…find that being once more… This single desire—to uncover the secrets of all I had found that day—had finally given me a purpose. I knew then I wanted to become an archaeologist._

_‘I surface from these thoughts, my desire to continue theorising renewed. I did eventually return to working on the artefact I’d found today, but the back of my mind is constantly grinding away at a question I’ve asked for decades: when will I find that being and its powers?’_

           I paused for a moment, repeating this last word in my mind. Powers… The document on the Guardian Scroll had said something similar. I turned my attention to the folder and retrieved the page, refreshing myself of its contents.

_‘_ _Scroll of the Guardians_ _._

_Not much is known of the letters and numbers printed on this Scroll but the circles within are theorised to represent a set of powers. These were dubbed Universal Powers as their symbols seem to represent elements needed in order for humanity to not only survive, but thrive as a race._ _’_

 

           Universal Powers. That’s what the document had called them. I was still a bit sceptical of the existence of this being and these powers, but either way, I thought as my curiosity turned grave, it had to do with the murders. The scraps of paper left on those bodies were stamped with the hourglass symbol, same as the one from the Scroll. I stole into my pocket and retrieved the scrap I’d copied down. While eyeing the hourglass I pondered why the two coincided. What did this Scroll found long ago by Mr Tysan have to do with these recent murder victims? Were the fellow and the young girl killed because they knew of these so-called powers? Because they knew too much?

           My features tightened as a vital possibility suddenly came to mind, one I’d not yet considered. Perhaps the culprit, whoever it was, was planning to kill another person and there was a pattern involving these symbols I wasn’t seeing. In an instant several possibilities came to mind. Perhaps the direction the hourglass faced pointed a certain way? No… According to Inspector Brown, they’d all been found straight up and down and were face-down on the chest of their respective victim. Maybe that was it? The chest…the heart…maybe the symbols had to do with the heart…? No, this line of questioning didn’t seem to be leading me anywhere… What had the victims had in common? Both had suffered no internal or external injuries… Certainly strange, but not helpful in determining who the killer might target next…

           I scratched my head in frustration. What could it all mean? How could I save the next victim? But I knew I’d have to concede defeat. Again, I didn’t have all the evidence to come to a solid conclusion and vexing about it would do me nor any future victims any good. Staying calm and searching as I was doing now. That’s what would solve this case.

           Without hesitation, I delved back into the journal, eager to know what Mr Tysan had found out on the Scroll. Maybe this would be what pointed me in the right direction to resolving these murders.

 

_3 March 1968_

 

‘ _Quite a bit of time has passed since my last entry. Every artefact I’ve found since my first dig has not been worth documenting as they all pale in comparison to the Scroll I still search answers for every day. Today, however, I feel as if that’s about to change._

_‘I was scheduled to analyse an artefact already uncovered, but the moment I arrived at the lab, I was told I would be attending another dig. Some sort of protocol from some higher-ups. I didn’t bother questioning it. The more digs I went on, the closer I came to finding that being again. It was this change in schedule that seemed to resonate with me, as if I was headed in some right direction. And this feeling was one I’d felt before. When I’d first discovered the Scroll. I don’t know how to explain this intuition, why it happens, but since it led me to the Scroll in my youth, perhaps it would lead me to what I’ve been theorising this entire time: The powers. At present, I’m heading for the site. My next entry, fate willing, will document my finds on the powers.’_

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

_‘I’m currently at the designated site and my intuition has grown stronger, fuelling my enthusiasm to begin the search. I was stopped in my tracks, however, when I spotted a bloke already here. He wouldn’t give out his name, which I found suspicious as anyone would, but when I pressed him, he merely informed me he was here on special orders. From who? The higher-ups I’d been told of back at the lab? He didn’t appear to be an archaeologist. More a scientist.’_

           A scientist…? I stopped short to ponder this bit. Certainly it couldn’t be who first came to mind…? An old, almost long lost fire began to burn deep in my guts as a memory stole into my thoughts. One I wished I could bury forever… He was the one behind the explosion. The one who killed my parents. The one who had obscured the incident… All this for fame, money and power…!

           I felt the urge to continue brooding on the matter, on my desires, my actions, the fury that had overthrown my judgement, the raw regret after all was said and done…but quickly forced myself back to reality. The past was the past. After all these years hadn’t I learnt that yet…? Eager to leave these thoughts behind, I quickly returned to the journal.

_‘But no matter his profession, he was as insistent as I was to begin digging. I shrugged off my suspicion. Anyone this excited to uncover an artefact was a friend of mine. And so, we began.’_

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

_‘We dug for several hours, that man and I. But to no avail. We’d found not a single trace of any artefact and I was beginning to get discouraged. Was this intuition, this intense feeling of finally finding an answer wrong? How could it be when I’d found the Scroll? Maybe I was digging at a wrong time? I supposed it was fair. I was far too exhausted to continue on tonight anyway._

_‘Packing up, I suggested to the man we head home. But despite the time and our efforts already expended, he persisted. And in the end I must thank him. Without his endurance we would have never stumbled upon the answers I had sought since my childhood._

_‘To explain what happened next…it was just like back then. I felt dizzy, shaky. I can only describe it as though I had travelled through time.’_

 

           Travelled through time… I repeated silently. This didn’t help my thoughts of the past stay where they were meant as two instances on this very subject came to mind. The first was of when I’d travelled with Professor Layton during a rather murky bit of my life. The second was of a thought I’d had not minutes ago…my parents’ deaths. I hastily willed the memory away again before it had a chance to rear its repulsive head, though I couldn’t help thinking my past and Mr Tysan’s seemed to be converging a bit too much… I was afraid I’d soon be reading about…a certain incident…but I steeled myself, quickly dismissing this as mere speculation. At least this helped ward off the dread squirming in my guts…

_‘One moment we were digging, the next we were attempting to stay on our feet as an unknown and unseen force compelled us forward. When we finally stopped moving, I put a hand to my head feeling rather ill. I looked about to see where we had ended up and saw before me an orb perched on a pedestal. In that moment my nausea melted away to ecstasy. I knew I’d found them. The powers. I could hardly believe my eyes, even now. I blinked in awe and soon realised we’d found not one orb, but two. The first has the symbol of a set of scales, the other with an hourglass. There appears to be something wrong with this last one as though it was cracked or damaged in some way, but I can hardly care. At last, I have discovered what I’ve chased after since I was a lad.’_

 

           I turned the page and found the next entry was written in an uneven, shaking scrawl. The words were faint as if Mr Tysan could hardly put pen to paper. I imagined this was because, like the Professor, he wrote his journal entries while still experiencing the very event he was writing on and was too in awe to pay much mind to his penmanship.

           But as I continued on, I realised this was not the case. In fact, it was the complete opposite.

_‘_ _I write this entry on my knees. Defeated. I was caught in such a stupor I could do nothing but watch the orbs before me when I suddenly saw a flash of white. I think it might have been the man I was with. His lab coat. I don’t know. Whatever it was, it had unleashed an agonising flash of light so glaringly bright I had to turn away just to avoid being blinded. Within this time, I heard nothing, saw nothing. When I opened my eyes, my sights adjusted and I turned around. Still, I saw nothing. I had not gone blind, but I wish I had. The orbs of power I sought for so long are gone. The man who was with me is also gone. What had happened to him? I can’t say I care. Those orbs that being had led me towards. My life’s work, my very reason for living. Gone._ _’_

 

           I took the bulk of pages towards the end of the journal and flipped through them. I was glad to find there were more entries, but I stopped for a moment to ponder what I’d just read. What had happened with Mr Tysan and that man who had accompanied him? What were those orbs? Were they actually powers?

           I planned to read the next entries, about turning the page, until I realised for the past few minutes I’d been sat here I hadn’t heard any noise come from within the house. I supposed that was good as it meant I didn’t have to inspect as much activity…but then…perhaps no noise meant I should be inspecting even more…

           With my suspicion and worry reinforced, I rose just a bit on my knees, peered in through the window…and a noise between a gasp and a grunt of horror escaped me. I knew it! I _knew_ I should have minded those two! They had stopped playing video games and were now watching a film. Sitting close on the couch. In the dark. _With Fayne’s arm around my daughter!_

           I was on my feet and legging it so fast for the door I’d not realised how strange it would look when I burst through into the house. The moment I did, I came to my senses, but it was already too late. Breathing hard, I looked to see Fayne quickly pause the video and flip on the light and Justine’s initial surprise at my appearance melt to a withering look as she shook her head.

           “Ayup, Miste’ Dove…” Fayne greeted with a confused smile as he tentatively returned to the couch. I noticed he had distanced himself from Justine. Smart choice on his part…

           “Dad…” The disdainful look I was giving Fayne became questioning as I turned to Justine. If her warning tone wasn’t enough to clue me in to how she felt about this situation, her expression and body language said it all. She seemed amused, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes which I could have sworn were shimmering with an angry spark in their dark depths. Her arms were crossed, her left hand clutching tight at her right arm as if trying to hold it back from slashing me to pieces. “What are you doing here?”

           I blinked. I was suddenly aware my only explanation for breaking and entering pertained to separating the two and that this would without a doubt incite a heated debate. So, in other words, I didn’t have an explanation…

           “Uhh…” I uttered pathetically. When I was younger and especially during that more…darker bit of my past I strategized well in advance for any situation that might become an obstacle in any plan. This preparation had been so engrained in my actions that now I wasn’t involved in this level of scheming, I surprised myself when I didn’t already have plans A through Z in place. I glanced around the house spotting the sandy-brown walls now devoid of artefacts and the boxes near the front door which seemed to have multiplied since yesterday, but neither of these things could help formulate a suitable explanation. My eyes shot desperately to the folder and journal clutched tight in my grasp and I blurted, “I have a few questions for Fayne…” This hadn’t been my original intention of course but as I actually put thought to the words, it didn’t seem a bad idea to ask Fayne about some of what I’d read. Perhaps he and his father had discussed the journal at some point and I could unearth more leads for this mystery. “Would you mind if I conducted a second informal interview with you?”

           Fayne instantly beamed at me. However…for some strange reason, upon seeing the grin I couldn’t help feeling as if someone wanted me dead… Could this foreboding have something to do with the murders…?

           That’s when I glanced to Justine. The spark in her eyes had now erupted into a full-blown blaze. Nope, nothing about the murders. Just a father’s intuition detecting his daughter’s anger towards him…possibly also his own impending death at her hand…

           “That’s why you bust in practically scaring us to death?” Justine asked, incredulous. “To do an informal interview? You seem rather anxious if that’s all it is!”

           Blimey, she was observant… But certainly a little scare didn’t warrant the anger I practically felt exuding from her…?

           “It’ll only take a moment,” I assured, sidestepping her demand for an explanation.

           “That doesn’t answer my question.”

           My features instantly tightened upon hearing this retort. Her challenging my authority was starting to get frustrating.

           “Justine…” I warned, meeting her defiant gaze evenly. After a moment, the fire in her eyes extinguished and she glanced off to the side, crossing her arms a bit tighter while muttering, “Well it doesn’t…” I could see, though she was unwilling to admit it, she felt compunction for her disrespect. I allowed my expression to soften. “It’ll only take a moment, I promise. Then you two can return to watching your film.” While I keep watch outside…

           “All righ’, Miste’ Dove,” Fayne prompted, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. The brief tension between Justine and I must have been getting to him. “Wa’ did yea wanna ask?”

           Instantly my journalist reflexes kicked in. I retrieved my emergency notepad from my back trouser pocket and, without asking permission, seated myself in a comfy recliner across from Fayne. Leaning forward, notepad on one knee and pen at the ready, I lifted Mr Tysan’s journal into view. “This journal. When I visited your mother yesterday, I found this in the folder she’d handed me. It’s your father’s.”

           One of Fayne’s eyebrows rose a bit higher than the other and I gathered from that single expression alone he didn’t know what this journal held inside. I’d been hoping this wasn’t the case, but in the end, it was quite understandable. The journal had been concealed and covered in dust. It hadn’t seen the light of day for quite a while, possibly even before Fayne was born. Mr Tysan had kept it hidden away…and now that I thought on it I wondered why. The entries seemed to be of significance to him and the very reason he worked as an archaeologist.

           “Ah think me Dad mi’ ‘ave mentioned tha’ journal,” Fayne responded, breaking through my thoughts, “bu’ ‘e neveh really talked abou’ wha’ ‘e wro’e. Is it abou’ ‘is research or summat?”

           I quickly jotted this response down then responded myself. “Yes, it is. Some rather important research in fact. About the Scroll.”

           I saw Fayne’s eyes light up. Curious… When I’d mentioned the Scroll yesterday he’d fallen quiet. Today he seemed rather excited to discuss it. What had caused this change, and in such a short amount of time? I made a note of this as well.

           “Ah asked ‘im abou’ it when ‘e finehlly came ‘ome las’ nigh’. ‘E seemed surprised tha’ me mam had shown yea, bu’ anyway… It’s one of ‘is oldest and mos’ special finds, ‘e said! And tha’s why ‘e became an archaeologist, was because of th’ Scroll. ‘E also talked abou’…”

           Though Fayne’s voice continued to meet my ears, what the boy was saying—something about his father’s achievements outside of his archaeological finds—I no longer registered. Instead I jotted down my thoughts, both about what he had said and what he had expressed while speaking. His first few sentences about his father finally coming home and the mention of his mother…the way his voice had trailed off, his eyes glanced away. He had been tense, expressing both irritation and worry. Yesterday when I’d conducted my first informal interview with him, he’d seemed stressed about his father being out. Now he was irritated when he had returned… Did these emotions hint at anything involving the murder? I finished up my notes, ending them with this rather ominous unanswered question, and looked up at Fayne, ready to ask my next question. The lad, however, was still on about his father.

           “…and ‘e go’ anothe’ degree for maths, bu’ ‘e doesn’ use tha’ too much. Anyway, ‘e’s incre’ibly strong, too. I once saw ‘im bench—”

           “In any case…” I threw out to get him back on track, shooting him a glance overtop the rim of my glasses. “About the topic at hand?”

           “Oh yeah! ‘Ere!” Fayne said. He suddenly stood and disappeared behind the wall that separated the living room and the dining room where I’d interviewed Mrs Tysan. I heard some distant rustling then he reappeared with the Guardian Scroll in hand. “So this is wha’ it looks like if yeh didn’ get t’ see it.” Fayne began as he seated himself. “Dad ‘ad it ‘idden away fo’ sum reason…” He unfurled the Scroll and turning it to face me. Again, the details of the ancient parchment gripped me. The unknown language, the circled symbols, the hourglass that coincided with the murders… “These circles are supposed t’ be powers. I’m no’ sure wha’ powers. Dad ‘asn’t found out yet even afte’ all these years. Bu’ Ah guess ‘e theorised they were protected by a Gua’dian of some sor’ and one of those powe’s was being threatened so tha’ Gua’dian ‘id it. Dad thinks ‘e saw this firs’ hand, saw it runnin’ away from wha’ever was threatenin’ it. Wicked, yeah?”

           Threatened… I pondered. Again, I found I didn’t really believe what Mr Tysan had supposedly theorised about this Guardian and these powers but I toyed with the idea anyway. Say hypothetically these did exist. What could have threatened them? I opened the journal and flipped through a few pages until I found what I was looking for.

 

_‘Though I had seen only a tiny flash of this being flying away, it had been magnificent…’_

 

           He had seen this being fly away and according to Fayne’s account on what his father had told him, this was when one of these several powers was threatened. What if, perhaps, they had been threatened a second time? When he and that scientist had found those two orbs? I flipped a few more pages.

 

_‘I was caught in such a stupor I could do nothing but watch the orbs before me when I suddenly saw a flash of white. I think it might have been the man I was with. His lab coat. I don’t know. Whatever it was, it had unleashed an agonising flash of light so glaringly bright I had to turn away just to avoid being blinded.’_

           Then a bit further down the page:

 

 _‘_ _The orbs of power I had sought for so long are gone. The man who was with me is also gone. What had happened to him?_ _’_

 

           Once they had discovered these orbs, Mr Tysan wrote how he’d seen a flash of white, like the scientist’s coat then he and the orbs had disappeared. Could that scientist have been the second threat? I looked up from the journal back to Fayne.

           “In this journal your father talks about a scientist who had excavated with him when he’d finally located these so-called powers. Has he ever spoken to you about this man?”

           Fayne thought on this a moment then shook his head. “No, no’ tha’ Ah can recall.”

           I decided this was something I would have to address when I met with Mr Tysan personally to interview him. I still had yet to do so for my article regarding archaeology. It was coming due soon so perhaps I could kill two birds with one stone. And learn about a murder at the same time…

           “Oh, wai’ a minu’, Miste’ Dove,” Fayne said. I looked to see him eyeing the journal intently. “Ah think Ah do remembe’ Dad talkin’ abou’ this journal once.”

           “What’s made you recall?” I asked, curious.

           “Somethin’ Dad told me abou’ a while ago. ‘e didn’ really wanna talk abou’ it, bu’ when he was…packin’ the journal up ‘e mentioned ‘e qui’ wri’in’ in it because of some big problem London was ‘aving. Somethin’ abou’ destruction. ‘e was so shaken abou’ the incident ‘e couldn’ write in it afterwards. Tha’s why ‘e doesn’ take it along on digs anymore. ‘Ere.” He held out a hand and after hesitating but a moment I placed the leather-bound book in his palm. I didn’t want to admit it, but as the boy leafed through some of the journal’s entries to about the middle a growing unease was stirring in my chest. Something that had caused Mr Tysan to quit writing? Something about destruction…a destruction so big, so traumatising he couldn’t return to writing in it…?

           “‘Ere it is!” Fayne’s jovial tone clashed with the dread now mounting within me. “It’s grea’ yea li’erally burs’ in, Miste’ Dove! I’ve been waitin’ foreve’ t’ figure awt wha’ ‘appened. Now, le’s see…” He cleared his throat and despite my senses crying out for me to stop the lad, I allowed him to read the entry. Certainly it couldn’t be… ‘Wha’ a sigh’ it was, th’ machine. It towe’ed ova’ all’a London and before Ah even knew wha’ was happenin’, one of its gian’ spiked appen’ages smashed int’ th’ ci’y, effectiveleh decimatin’ an entireh stree’ of ci’izens. Ah fel’ the shake of th’ vereh earth beneath me fee’, then th’ shockwave of th’ impact truleh ‘it me and Ah was lying on the groun’, cowerin’ in fear agains’ th’ almigh’y thing. From whence it ‘ad come…it ‘ad been so fast Ah didn’ know. Bu’ if Ah ‘ad a guess, it would’a emerged from ‘ades itself for such was th’ destruction it left in its path. Firs’ the powers. Now this…’”

           After Fayne finished this entry, I could do nothing but stand there as that very moment ripped through me like that machine had ripped through London. The stench of gunpowder. Whole buildings collapsed in heaps of rubble for miles and miles, the screams of those suffering…fire, smoke, blood…the burning inferno of revenge then the gelid shock of regret…

           “…Dove…?”

           The sound of my name shook me from the nightmarish visions and as I surfaced I knew my fear was too obvious in my wide eyes, my furrowed brow, my figure which had begun to quiver. I quickly composed myself, drawing my features in an even and unreadable expression.

           “Yes…?” I said quickly, my voice escaping in a ragged enquiry.

           “Oh, yea kin’a blanked awt. Ah was jus’ sayin’ tha’ mus’a been realleh frightenin’ t’ see tha’. Were yea there too?”

           I swallowed hard. “Y-Yes…” That was all I could utter, my heart hammering, blood roaring in my ears. It was easy to obscure my emotions on the outside, but the same could not be done for the inside…

           “Funneh… Ah don’ remembeh learnin’ abou’ tha’ in ‘istory…”

           My jaw clenched.

           “Yes…well…thank you for your time, Fayne… I think that will conclude my interview…until I can speak with your father.”

           In an effort to return to the present, I hastily willed the traces of my lingering past away from my mind and, afraid she might have heard, looked to Justine. She had been rather quiet during this conversation. After what I’d just experienced I hoped she wasn’t still upset with me but it didn’t seem I would be so fortunate. She was holding a hand to her head, her eyebrows knit in frustration. She stood up just then, flicking her purple-dyed bangs out of her face in an effort to appear as if nothing was out of the ordinary then walked for the door.

           “I’m going home…” she uttered to me. She turned to Fayne. “See you at school tomorrow…”

           Fayne made to get up while saying, “Ah’ll walk yea—” but cut himself off mid-rise as he glanced to me. When he saw me cross my arms, an eyebrow raised challengingly, he quickly seated himself once more and rethought his goodbye. “S-See ya!”

           The moment Justine stepped out, I felt anxious to clear up any misunderstandings. So having obtained my information from Fayne, which had, in the end, turned out to be at least somewhat useful in my search despite crossing paths with my past, I got to my feet and followed after her, bidding Fayne a hasty farewell as I closed the door behind me.

           While catching up with Justine, I pondered on why she might have left so brusquely, putting myself in her shoes for a moment. I was spending time with a friend until my adoptive parent burst in through the door… Hmm… I couldn’t understand it. If I was still Justine’s age and my adoptive mother had disrupted my time with a friend, I would have welcomed the extra company. It wasn’t just any extra company, after all. It was someone who had taken me in when I’d lost my parents. Someone more precious to me than any friend. Perhaps it was a generational matter…?

           Once at Justine’s side I slowed to match her in pace, hoping she’d show at least some sign of recognition I was now with her. When I went unnoticed, I made to set a hand on her shoulder then decided against this, instead covering my mouth and clearing my throat. How to go about addressing this…?

           “Justine…” I began slowly. “I…I didn’t mean to disturb you and Fayne…if that’s why you left so suddenly… It’s only…if I’m honest…well you see…” I kept fidgeting nervously, from tugging at my shirt sleeve to straightening my tie to pulling at my collar. It certainly wasn’t helping me explain myself… “Maybe you can’t understand…but ever since you were young I’ve doted on you…and now that you’re getting older and even more independent than you were as a child I know I need to allow you to spend time away from me… It’s difficult though, when I want to continue to protect you, so…so that’s why I broke in. To make sure you two weren’t…” I cleared my throat again. “And it doesn’t help I dislike Fayne… He’s so…ungentlemanly… And I know that trait’s a bit…outdated, but for as long as I live,” my features tightened defiantly as I slammed a fist down onto the folder in my palm, “I’ll continue to uphold it and make sure no boy hurts you!”

           Besides the footfalls, noise of traffic and general conversations from others on the streets, a silence settled between us and I felt my confidence drift away with the spring breeze. For a moment I wasn’t sure whether I should prompt an answer out of her or let her be until, to my relief, she finally spoke.

           “Dad…” she drawled. I knew that tone well. It was a hopeless sort tone when I’d said or done something so embarrassing she was embarrassed for me and could only utter my title. “I’m not mad at you if that’s what you think…”

           “You’re not?” This surprised me. “But you seemed so vexed…”

           “I was, but…I can’t stay mad at you…” Her voice trailed off, then she blurted quickly, “Anyway, I was just having headaches. That’s all.” Her brow furrowed in playful irritation as she looked back at me. “And how many times do I need to tell you I can fend for myself?”

           I knew she was making light of the situation, but even so I couldn’t meet her eyes. “I realise, however…well, it’s my responsibility as your father, er…foster father to look out for you…”

           “Dad…” There was that tone again. “I can look out for myself. I don’t want to owe you, so let me take care of my own problems.” I was about to protest on this but she swept on. “So you really don’t like Fayne?”

           For a moment I still felt the need to respond to the last comment she’d made, but I let it go for now. We were both rather awkward when it came to feelings and I imagine not a whole lot would be understood between the staggering, awkward sentences.

           “No… I suppose if I think on it, the boy hasn’t done much wrong, but even so, I can tell he…fancies you and well, if I’m honest, I wouldn’t want you to fancy him in return…because…well I don’t want to admit you’re old enough now to date… After all, you’ll always be…” I allowed my voice to trail off, “my little girl…”

           Justine laughed softly. “Well you can stop worrying about that. I don’t fancy him. He’s just a friend.”

           I could see her glancing off to the side. This wasn’t entirely true, but there was no way I could confront her about having natural feelings, of course. The only solution, I reasoned, was what I’d been doing since she’d befriended Fayne: Spy… I’d almost been caught today, so to drive suspicion away from my actions I said, “I can never stop worrying about my foster daughter…”

           And with this comment, I suddenly felt the need to explain a bit of my past to her. For so long I’d practised keeping it to myself I felt rather awkward going into it. Already too much of it had been resurfacing today alone, but…she was my foster daughter—no, my _daughter_ —and she deserved to know at least one truth about me. It wasn’t my whole past, I told myself. Just a bit of it. I took a deep breath, then began.

           “And I suppose the reason for that is because…” I clenched a fist in an effort to spit the words out, “well, I…almost had to be adopted myself at one point…” No! I cried silently in defeat. I couldn’t do it… I couldn’t admit I, too, had been adopted… Why was it so difficult? Even so, I tried to reassure myself, what I said hadn’t been a complete lie… The silence that followed this wasn’t helping my composure, however, and I couldn’t help asking, “I suppose that’s a bit of a surprise, isn’t it?”

           Again, only silence followed this response. I looked to Justine, questioning why she hadn’t answered when I saw an expression on her face, one that might have been unreadable to most, but to the keen eye I’d honed over time, I could tell by the miniscule smile that touched the corners of her lips and the shine in her eyes that she was happy to know this information.

           “So,” she began quietly, half to herself, “we kind of share something in common…” At once, her small smile tugged into a wide, teasing grin as she beamed at me. “I didn’t think I’d ever find something in common with an old man!”

           Now it was my turn to stay silent as I took a moment to simply appreciate this gesture, this acceptance that drew us even closer as father and daughter and narrowed the chasm of insecurity at not being related. Even though I hadn’t given her the whole truth, she still accepted a piece of my past. And that, I had to admit, made me feel rather warm and giddy on the inside. Maybe in time, I would have the strength to admit the whole truth…

           I finally ended this saccharine moment by crossing my arms in playful irritation.

           “What is this? I share something about myself with you and then get insulted?”

           “Oh, c’mon, Dad…” she said, “You’re not exactly a spring rooster, you know!”

           “Oh-ho,” I chuckled in warning. “Maybe so, but a spring rooster or chicken—such as yourself—wouldn’t last a minute in the real world. Who’s the one affording _your_ schooling and paying the bills _you_ rack up for internet and TV and electricity and buying _your_ groceries and—”

           “Alright! I guess old people have their advantages…” she ceded before her playful smile returned. “Talking of paying for my stuff, how about we duck in to this Chinese restaurant and order a burger and chips or something. And don’t even think about running home to work on that puzzle. I’m starving, so you must be too. C’mon!” She began jogging past me, looking over her shoulder with that teasing glint in her dark eyes. “Last one there’s an old man who doesn’t know anything about technology!”

           Though behind this expression I knew she was giddy with happiness, glad she could relate to someone. I smiled to myself. Even if that someone was an old man who didn’t know anything about technology.

           Now that this bit of conflict was settled it was time to settle this puzzle. I supposed no matter how much I wanted to head straight home to digest not food but the information I’d learnt, Justine would force me into the restaurant by ripping all this information to shreds. But I wouldn’t protest. This late journey about town had certainly taught me about the mysteries I was investigating, but what it had really stressed was how my little girl was not getting any younger.

           Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks as I glanced down at the folder in my hands. I had left Mr Tysan’s journal with Fayne… For a split second I considered turning round to retrieve it but that was when I realised this night had also stressed something else… How much my past continued to haunt me. I kept walking, unwilling to go back.

           Yes, it seemed there was no choice but to spend a night out with Justine rather than theorise. And though it was only at a restaurant, I looked forward to it. After all… A grim smile touched my lips as the last entry from Mr Tysan’s journal wheedled into my mind.

           I of all people knew how important it was to spend time with those I dearly loved.


End file.
